


Bright Star

by Emsiecat



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Bilbo, Sharing Clothes, Stargazing, Thorin is a Softie, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 12:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17121566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emsiecat/pseuds/Emsiecat
Summary: "Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art" - John Keats.After listening to Richard Armitage's reading of that beautiful poem, and taking the time to watch the recent Geminids meteor shower. I was hit with a burst of inspiration to write a sappy little something for 'The Happy Hobbit Holiday 2018 Event' involving this... or the Middle Earth equivalent anyway... and our favourite boys.I hope you like it, Alexandrite811! :)





	Bright Star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alexandrite811](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexandrite811/gifts).



There was something to be said of mountain living, Bilbo thought as he settled himself more comfortably into the plush armchair and stretched his toes out toward the crackling fire in the grate, to better enjoy the warmth. Outside he knew the air was near frigid, with a threat of more snow on the way (if Óin was to be believed), but here inside the Lonely Mountain, they were protected from the elements.

Foreyule was well under way, and Bilbo knew that back in the Shire his kin would be industriously preparing for the Yuletide holiday… Oddly enough, thoughts of the Shire had not plagued Bilbo as he supposed they should, for all he had been away for well over a year now; the keen sense of homesickness he had once suffered had dulled with the passing of time rather than sharpened.

Bilbo had never actually intended to stay in Erebor for as long as he had. When he had first started his adventure, the hobbit had intended to see the dwarves' home restored to them, and then to return to his own home directly after. He had not counted on the battle, or his need to see his friends well again, or a wish to see Erebor's restoration completed, or to fall in love…

A somewhat irritated expression usurped the hobbit's face at that last thought; it puckered his brow and pursed his lips, and Bilbo busied himself by lighting his pipe and scowling at the fire in an effort to will away the flush he felt creeping up his neck to the tips of his ears.

There was no use denying it, he supposed. Along the way, not only had he begun to think of the dwarves as more family than friends; but he had gone and foolishly fallen for their king as well.

Bilbo chewed the stem of his pipe as he mulled over his predicament, pausing only to loose the occasional smoke ring. He had wondered, after the battle, if perhaps his burgeoning feelings may have had a chance of being reciprocated. After all, the heartfelt words he and Thorin had shared up on Ravenhill were nothing to sniff at, nor was the time they had spent together as Thorin convalesced (Bilbo had refused to leave the king's side the first few weeks following the battle, and Thorin had seemed just as keen to keep Bilbo close). However, no confession had ever been made, and as far as Bilbo could tell, Thorin's behaviour around him was much as it ever was following the events outside the Goblin Tunnels. Therefore, Bilbo had begun to suspect that perhaps he had been reading too much into things and that he should try to nip this silly pining in the bud before he did something disastrous like confess his affections to Thorin and possibly ruin a perfectly lovely friendship.

Sighing, a stream of pipe-smoke clouding 'round his head like a wreath, Bilbo very nearly jumped out of his skin when a soft chuckle sounded far too close to his ear for comfort.

"I am tempted to liken you to Smaug seeing you thus, Master Baggins. However, I fear you might think the comparison an insult."

Coughing himself nearly insensate and setting aside his pipe, Bilbo turned to give the very object of his thoughts what he hoped would be a suitably draconian glare.

"And what time do you call this, Your Majesty? I do hope you didn't keep the delegation from Laketown waiting as long as this." Bilbo's hand fluttered in the direction of the small window, now completely dark, to indicate the lateness of the hour.

Thorin's lips quirked and he sketched a small, apologetic bow to the hobbit. From anyone else such a comment might have been seen as impertinence, but the dwarf king knew Bilbo better than that, and had clearly detected the friendly concern in his tone.

"I had hoped we would finish earlier this evening, unfortunately that was not the case. I assume the others have long gone."

"Hm, quite. I managed to save you some of the meal though."

It had become something of a tradition, for the members of Thorin's company to take meals together regularly. A shared common room in the royal quarters served as a comfortable meeting place for such occasions, and these times where the rag-tag group of dwarves, elf, and hobbit ate together were always joyful and lively affairs.

Thorin looked over to the dining table where a covered dish sat, before turning back to the hobbit with a slightly amused glint in his eyes.

"Did you have to fight them off in order to save said meal?"

"Of course," Bilbo replied genially without missing a beat. "Had to brandish Sting and everything. Bofur's hat paid the ultimate price, and I believe your nephews will now be terrified to be in the same room as me."

Thorin huffed softly, trying to cover his laughter, before taking a seat in the armchair opposite Bilbo's and deftly stealing the hobbit's seemingly forgotten pipe, (Bilbo's quiet indignant squawk at the theft was pointedly ignored).

"You have my thanks, Master Burglar."

"Says he who steals my pipe," Bilbo grumbled good-naturedly under his breath.

Pretending not to have heard, Thorin continued. "If all our friends are abed though, I am curious as to why you're still out here."

"Hmph, perhaps I just wished to make certain that Erebor's king had not gotten himself lost somewhere in the mountain."

Thorin smirked, loosed a smoke ring of his own, and stretched out a mercifully boot-free and simply slippered foot to lightly kick at Bilbo's shin. "This is my home, Bilbo. I should rather hope I'd not become lost so easily."

Bilbo made a sound that may have been a cough, but sounded suspiciously like the words 'Shire' and 'twice'.

"Insolence," Thorin snorted with feigned hurt, his smile so quick and bright that it sent Bilbo's heart into quite a flutter and the hobbit was tempted to frown at himself for such silliness.

It was these conversations, so full of playful banter and easy cadence, that Bilbo valued the most between them, and that he would miss with every fibre of his being should he slip up and say more than he ought and thus damage their friendship.

"You claim insolence, but I would call it friendly honesty." Bilbo teased a little belatedly considering his distracting turn of thought.

"That riposte was far too slow, Master Baggins. Should I be worried for your health?" Thorin's tone was light, and the jibe presented with the same bright smile as before, but Bilbo was not fooled. He saw the slightest flicker of true concern in Thorin's eyes.

Not good. Not good at all. If Thorin was starting to see the difference in Bilbo's behaviour then it would only be a matter of time before the canny dwarf uncovered the truth.

Bilbo may have had a trace of hope over his feelings being returned following the battle, but he was not sure enough of anything to have those feelings revealed just yet. Courage he may have found on his journey here, but he could admit there was coward enough left in him to try to save himself from possible heartache.

"Not at all, Thorin. I should say I am more worried about yours. You've been running yourself ragged these past months, and we've _all_ noticed you skipping meals and sleeping less." Bilbo's words were quietly spoken and came from a place of truth, but there was no denying he had hoped to deflect Thorin's attention away from himself.

He should have remembered how tenacious a dwarf could be. Even a more biddable dwarf like Thorin would not be swayed so easily from their course.

"Aye, and Balin has told me as much and I have put plans in place to let my advisors do more and take more rest for myself. However, I do believe I was enquiring about _you_ , Bilbo."

Bilbo swallowed thickly and attempted to school his features so as not to appear too surprised or flustered as Thorin tapped out and set aside his ill-gotten pipe and left his seat, moving to kneel before the hobbit, to gently cup his jaw to scrutinise his face.

"Are you sure you are well? You're not suffering too much from being away from your home for so long?"

It took quite a lot of willpower not to lean into Thorin's touch like some starry eyed tween, but Bilbo managed. Although, he was certain the smile curling his lips had to look quite foolish indeed, and he could only hope he did not appear too obviously smitten.

"I'm quite well, truly Thorin. I have found that my longing for the Shire has lessened considerably since we arrived here." Bilbo's voice was certainly breathier than he would like, and so he attempted to add a little levity to his reasoning in hopes that Thorin would not notice. "I suspect that the comfortable rooms and improvement of the food available might have something to do with it."

Bilbo had been expecting a witty rejoinder, some remark or another from Thorin of how companionship must be second to food in the heart of a hobbit. Instead, Bilbo found his breath catching again as Thorin answered in a voice equally soft and somewhat conspiratorial, as if sharing a secret. "You know, I am not sure I should be as pleased as I am to hear that you are not longing for home. It feels as if we are keeping you from it and after you gave us back our home too, but I- and the others- are all very glad to still have you here."

"As if I could leave before Erebor is fully restored," Bilbo retorted. And oh dear Thorin's palm was still warm on his cheek and dwarves really should learn a little more about how other races in Middle Earth valued personal space, because Thorin was still ever so close and it was rather distracting. "I'm still owed a tour of all the wonders this kingdom supposedly holds, since you enjoyed waxing lyrical about them so much on our journey here."

"You doubt my words?"

"Well-"

Thorin huffed as if offended, but his voice was far too fond for the offence to be anything more than a façade. "I really shouldn't expect anything more from one who called Erebor a 'nasty, clockless, timeless hole'."

"Oh, you remember that, but not the time we all agreed to have dinner?" Bilbo teased.

Thorin's only response was to lean closer still and tap his forehead very gently to Bilbo's before standing and finally backing away from the hobbit.

"I already explained that the delegation ran longer than expected," Thorin clearly still felt the need to defend himself somehow, and Bilbo chuckled, still warm and a little giddy from Thorin's earlier closeness.

"Not to worry, you're forgiven."

"I am glad to hear it."

Thorin smirked and held out a hand, and really, Bilbo could no more resist taking it and standing to join Thorin before the hearth than Smaug could have resisted the call of treasure.

"If you like, I could show you one of these wonders right now- well… providing Óin has read the portents correctly of course. It should be tonight-"

"What should-"

Bilbo's perplexed question petered off as Thorin released his hand, circled him, and then placed those confoundedly warm hands of his over his eyes.

It was only the hobbit's own brand of Tookish curiosity that prevented him from elbowing Erebor's king none too gently in the stomach for taking such liberties.

He laughed briefly, but soon found his voice again as Thorin began to walk to goodness knows where, herding the hobbit before him with hands still obscuring Bilbo's vision.

"Thorin, for goodness sake, what are you- it's _late_ and you haven't even eaten dinner yet- I swear you're as bad as Fíli and Kíli combined-"

"Not far, I promise. Your eyes need to be accustomed to the dark."

"You could have just asked me to close my eyes you know," Bilbo groused, but other than that did not feel inclined to protest considering that Thorin was pressed close behind him and felt wonderfully warm.

That warmth was even more welcome as he felt Thorin reach out with one hand and open a set of doors that quite obviously led onto one of the terraces in the royal quarters.

"We're going outside!?"

The question was needless of course. Bilbo could already feel the brisk, frosty breeze ruffling his hair and tugging at his clothes. He wrinkled his nose against the chill, curled his toes as he stepped forward, and felt the unmistakable sensation of snow beneath his soles. It was soft as feather down but would have been bitingly cold were it not for the natural resilience of a hobbit's feet.

"You had better not let me freeze or stumble."

"I will let neither of those fates befall you, you can trust me." Thorin was attempting to sound solemnly sincere, but there was a hint of laughter in his voice that Bilbo supposed must be due to the odd sight he made; picking up his feet and trying to shake off the clinging snow with every step like an irritated cat.

"I do trust you, always have, even when all evidence has suggested not to." Bilbo declared loftily and reached up to give one of Thorin's wrists a reassuring little pat.

It was a mark of how strong their friendship was that they could jest over and hint at past transgressions so easily.

Thorin harrumphed and stopped walking, finally removing his hands from Bilbo's eyes and gently pulling the hobbit back a step so that he could wrap his thick, fur lined cloak around both himself and Bilbo.

"There. Now you will not freeze."

Bilbo might have been flustered by the way he was pulled back against Thorin's chest and ensconced in the folds of his cloak like a lover, were it not for the fact that he was trying to puzzle out what it was Thorin had brought him outside to see.

Bilbo had been on these terraces before, and though the view from high on the mountain was captivating and very fine, Bilbo could not quite fathom how this could be considered one of the wonders of Erebor.

"Thorin, this is very lovely, but is there something in particular you wished for me to see?"

Eyes now accustomed to the dark as Thorin had stated, Bilbo glanced this way and that. The Desolation spread before them. It had started to heal this past year with the influence of the dragon now gone. Grass, and flowers, and young trees had begun to sprout once more, and the people of Laketown had started to prepare the lands between Erebor and the lake for farming. All of this was presently blanketed in snow however, and the light of the crescent moon glistening off it made everything appear brighter like a vision from a dream.

Dale itself where the Lakemen now lived could not be seen from this part of the mountain, but far in the distance beyond the shores of the lake, Bilbo could make out trees and hills, silhouetted black and navy in the depth of night.

A bearded chin settled on Bilbo's shoulder, and the hobbit could practically _feel_ the smile Thorin wore.

"Look up."

Bilbo blinked and did as he was bid. Above them stretched the sky, clear of clouds and a truly breathtaking view for any who had not seen it before, which again Bilbo _had_ , though it did not lessen the splendour.

Bilbo had to admit that the night sky did look particularly fine tonight, the cold crisp air seeming to give the sky an odd shimmer or glow. The colour was as dark as velvet, purple and deepest darkest blue. The stars that Tauriel so loved were bright; the constellations Bilbo had read about could be seen clearer here than he had ever before seen in the Shire. Eksiqilta, Menelvagor, Remmirath, Wilwarin, and Valacirca (or rather, Durin's Crown as the dwarrow would prefer it be known as, Bilbo thought with a smile).

Still, Bilbo was slightly at a loss as to what it was Thorin wished to show him-

"Oh!" Above them, a thin streak of light flared and shot across the sky before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. "A falling star!"

Bilbo tried to turn to glance at Thorin, but the dwarf's face was resting upon his shoulder still and so close that Bilbo could not make out his features properly. The warmth in his voice was apparent however.

"Watch."

Bilbo turned his face upwards once more, eyes roving over the night sky before-

"Another!"

And then another, and another, and yet still more appeared! Falling star after falling star sped across the sky.

"Thorin, what is this?" Bilbo could not help just a little trepidation from creeping into his voice. After all, he had never seen so many falling stars at once, was something wrong?

"There's no reason to fear," Thorin reassured, his arms tightening minutely around Bilbo's middle. "It happens around the same time each year. Many falling stars appear one particular night, it varies slightly from year to year, but the Seers amongst us can usually divine when it will occur. You could probably have seen it from your Shire if you knew to look, but the mountains have the very best view of them."

"But what does it mean?"

"I'm not entirely sure if it means anything at all. However, many of our kin think it is the sparks from Mahal's hammer as he strikes his anvil. A reminder to us to carry on his work of forging."

Bilbo smiled, lips slightly parted in wonder. "I think I like that idea… they rather look like fireflies to me though."

Thorin laughed then, the sound soft and low and full of delight, making Bilbo feel another flush steal up his neck.

"You think the stars are fireflies, and I mistook fireflies for stars." Thorin spoke quietly; reminding Bilbo of the conversation they had many many months ago in Rivendell.

"Quite a pair we make." Bilbo drawled, nudging Thorin with a playful grin. "You know, amongst _my_ kin it is common to wish on falling stars. They say if you are lucky enough to see a falling star a wish you make upon it will surely come true. I rather feel as if wishing on so many might be cheating though."

"Ah, perhaps that is why ' _Adad_ was successful…"

"Your father-?"

"Aye, I recall _'Amad_ once telling me that he asked to start courting her whilst they watched the falling stars together. If what you say about wishing upon them is true, then maybe the stars heard his wishes that _'Amad_ would agree. _'Adad_ was rather hopeless when it came to courting, or so I hear. He would have needed all the help from the stars he could get." Thorin grinned, eyes crinkling with mirth at the idea.

Bilbo laughed and shook his head slightly. "It's only superstition after all. I am certain your mother would have agreed falling stars or no. Romantic of him though, to ask her then."

"He was that, hopeless, but romantic just the same."

It had become easier in recent months, Bilbo had noticed, for Thorin to speak of his past and lost family and not become lost in despair. It was heartening to see, though Bilbo still had to suppress the urge to turn and embrace him in sympathy.

"I am… rather tempted to make a wish upon them myself."

Bilbo frowned minutely at the sudden stilted and uncertain tone Thorin's voice had adopted, leaning away so that he could turn to look at Thorin's face properly. The dwarf's head was now tilted up towards the stars, though he seemed utterly enraptured by them there was a rather nervous edge to his countenance, and he refused to look at Bilbo for a few moments.

"What would you wish for, if you don't mind my asking?" Bilbo's question was very quiet, unsure whether Thorin could possibly be offended by such a personal enquiry.

Thorin did answer, but he sounded somewhat far away, that uncertainty still tingeing his words. "After the Dragon Sickness, I vowed to never again covet anything as fiercely as I had the treasure… However, as the months have worn on I have found myself fearing your departure for home. I know I should not, and that it is well within your right to request to go back to Hobbiton at any time, and that eventually you will leave… and please believe me I would not stop you- but… well. I think I would miss your presence here something fierce."

Bilbo released a slightly shaky breath, allowing himself to stare openly at his friend. Thorin looked lost somehow, and worried, and even the darkness of the night could not hide the blush staining the dwarf king's cheeks. There was an almost painful hope in his eyes, but still he refused to turn away from the stars to look at Bilbo properly.

Thorin wished for him to stay in Erebor for good?

Catching his lower lip between his teeth, Bilbo contemplated how he might answer for a heartbeat or two, before settling on a reply that could potentially be rather unwise.

"I don't believe I have mentioned a desire to return to Hobbiton in many a month, Thorin… I believe your wish might be wasted… or at the very least, that you might be making the wrong wish."

"What-"

Drawing up every ounce of Tookish courage he may have possessed, Bilbo continued, hoping that Thorin would understand and that his suspicions were true. "I think your father had a good idea of what to wish for, if indeed he did."

Thorin did look at Bilbo then, surprise writ on his features, but to Bilbo's relief there was no rejection or distaste; only that lingering hope and slow, steady, and slightly incredulous smile that made Bilbo's heart sing.

"Would you-"

"If you are going to ask me to stay in Erebor, and if you could court me, then yes. Yes, of course," Bilbo, replied in a rush, face feeling hotter than a dragon's flame.

Bilbo wasn't sure how Thorin's smile could outshine the stars, but confound it, the dwarf somehow managed, and he stepped in front of Bilbo, gently taking hold of his hands to kiss his knuckles.

" _Amrâlimê_ …"

And Bilbo certainly knew what _that_ meant, having heard Kíli murmur it in an equally daft and besotted manner to Tauriel many a time. That was not to mention how often a certain burly captain of the guard described Ori thusly.

Ducking his head to hide his own pleased smile, Bilbo suddenly squeaked as he finally took note of Thorin's footwear, or lack thereof.

"You came out here in _slippers_!?"

"What- Bilbo-"

"For goodness sake Thorin, your poor toes!"

"Bilbo they're perfectly fine-"

"Hardly, I recall how delicate dwarf feet are. They'll freeze right off if you stand out here much longer."

" _Delicate_?"

"Well- compared to a hobbit. Inside now!"

"Bilbo I can assure you that my feet are not going to drop off just because-"

Kissing Thorin was certainly an effective way to cut off any complaints or rambling speeches it seemed, and Bilbo was really quite proud of himself for both gathering the courage to do so and for being responsible for such a pole-axed but delighted expression on Thorin's face.

"Inside, and I may kiss you again."

Clearly, that was all the encouragement Thorin needed, for he scooped up a yelping, laughing Bilbo with little effort and wasted no time in striding back inside to the warmth of the common room, the falling stars soon forgotten.


End file.
